by Mary Deal
His information was most curious and lingered in her mind for days, especially while doing her favorite chore. She loved to sit in the sunlight getting a tan while pulling weeds in the yard. Her cardiologist said that if she proceeded slowly, it might be the best and only exercise in which she could participate; just sit restfully on the ground while enjoying doing the chore. Childhood rheumatic fever had so weakened her heart and inadvertently sapped most enjoyment out of her life.
Since their revealing dinner conversation, Mindy's mind filled with thoughts about why Josh would even mention his sterility. Without it ever being discussed, surely he figured out that she shied away from marriage for fear of becoming pregnant. The burden of carrying a child would put undue stress on her heart and cause it to fail, fatally, her doctor had warned, and most likely, long before the fetus could be saved. Her heart was just too weak. After that, her thoughts were that if she somehow managed to carry a child to term and herself passed away, that would leave the child without a mother. She didn't wish to bring a child into such a situation and that was her final thought.
Josh was probably on his way to Modesto. The year earlier, he had located the type of organic plant fertilizer they needed being used and sold at another farm farther south in the Central Valley. The bat guano made a huge difference in how her crops produced. It was less expensive for him to make the trip than to have it delivered. Mindy guessed Josh had planted the idea of how perfect she and he would be together and left her to think about it in his absence.
Josh would also stop by the small farms started by Yutu, a Miwok descendant from the tribes that once inhabited the Central Valleys. Yutu was one of her students. He struggled to hold onto the small patch of barren rocky acreage he had inherited. His tried to learn as much as possible, passing the knowledge to other Native American families in their destitute communities.
Mindy's weed pulling routine was to work at the edge of the rose bushes that bordered the fence. A few feet would be enough for one day. The yard itself had been planted with Dichondra that grew thick and cushiony, choked out stray weeds, and required minimal care. Tall old pear trees bordered the house and yard on three sides beyond the white picket fence. An old wide-trunked oak tree stood farther out; another on the neighboring property. The sun shone around her and a cool breeze blew in off the Sacramento River on the other side of the levee that fronted her property. She sat quietly at the edge of the lawn, enjoying the sunshine, with no thought of rushing to get started. If she didn't get much done, the field laborers also helped to keep the weeds down.
It was working in the dirt that caused her to start her own organic mini-farm, like so many residents in the Sacramento River Delta. She couldn't share in and enjoy the actual labor, which is why she hired a foreman to carry out her wishes. That was Josh Frohman, whose energy and commanding presence were the kind of strengths needed in the person to run the farm overall. A middle-aged woman named Helen Dewey, who had been laid off after thirty years on her bookkeeping job in Sacramento, was hired for the office help. Helen became a special friend and confidant. Mindy let her move into one of the bedrooms. Her presence was a comfort.
As Mindy sat with her few hand tools uprooting invaders around the shrubs, an enlightening experience overtook her, something she sensed trying to come to conscious thought. She had shied away from a committed relationship for fear of becoming pregnant. Why marry a man and not be able to give him children? She and Josh had not discussed this, but surely he had guessed her thoughts. That was the reason he told her he couldn't have children. He could not give her a child. Why had she not realized this immediately when he made his disclosure? The thought was stunning. She sat and stared straight ahead as a feeling of freedom washed over her. It was a burden lifted. Josh's attentiveness and caring had been unending. He loved her. He telling her he couldn't have children was a precursor to him proposing again.
Mindy smiled and shook her head. That was Josh's way of saying she would be safe with him. He meant to break it to her gently. Her mind flitted across the possibilities. They had so much life to live and it wouldn't be cut short. She started singing the Hawaiian wedding song: I will love you longer… than foreve-r-rr… At one time, when marriage seemed possible, she dared dream of a wedding in Hawaii, like a couple of her acquaintances had. Then came the bad news that she should not travel farther than into Walnut Grove or the small surrounding towns and certainly not fly anywhere. Still, her curiosity led her to research weddings in Hawaii on the Internet. A Hawaiian wedding could be arranged in the Delta, maybe on the beach at Steamboat Slough.
Friends admired her voice. At first she saw it as another opportunity missed, but realized early that her condition precluded much that gave others enjoyment. Still, she accepted her lot in life and got over it. She sat alone with the few employees tending their jobs at the other end of the field. Her elation carried her away. When she realized she was singing quite loud, she looked around to see if anyone had heard.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone peeping out from behind the massive oak trunk. Watching. Her heart began to pound and that wasn't good. She couldn't let that happen and pressed her hand against her chest and took slow deep breaths. Why would someone watch her? She looked again. The person must have ducked behind the tree. She hadn't seen him clearly. Maybe it was old Ray Beaner from the next property over. He might have been embarrassed at being caught listening. She smiled, knowing Ray Beaner often crossed the back of her property to chat with her laborers in the field. He must have heard her crooning. How embarrassing! The idea of being secretly watched and not understanding why the person hid continued to make her heart pound in anticipation of something unknown. That irritated her. She focused on the weeds under the rose bushes and pulled her sun hat down for more shade on her face.
So who was it? She was no dummy. Her body was fragile but she had a superior mind. She knew the workers liked her and were thankful for their jobs, but they remained reticent because of her condition. The thought that it might be a stranger crossing through the fields instead of following the winding levee and then hiding caused some fright and kept her pulse pounding. Somehow, she had to calm her heart rate. She rose as quickly as possible and made her way into the house.
As Mindy passed the doorway of the smaller bedroom-converted office, Helen, ever attentive, rose from the chair at her desk. “Mindy, back so soon?” Her expression turned serious. “You okay?”
“Too many people around,” she said. She needed to lay down and rest. The thought of a stranger hiding and watching was unnerving. Mindy allowed Helen to help remove her shoes and stretch out on the bed. She tried to relax. “Someone was standing behind a tree watching me,” she said. “I'm so embarrassed. I was singing too loud, I think.”
Helen left the room and soon returned. “I didn't see anyone out there,” she said. “But so what if someone heard you? One thing that rheumatic fever didn't hurt was your vocal chords.”
* * *
Thankful for the truck's air conditioning system, Josh traveled from Walnut Grove to Modesto while the sun beat down and the mercury rose to triple digits. After picking up a load of fertilizer, he paused only to have lunch at a rest stop east of Modesto and give the truck a chance to cool down. He would deliver some of the guano to Yutu and couldn't wait to get closer to the Sierra foothills and cooler temperatures. He had been on the road too many hours and even thought about spending the night somewhere in the area and starting home before dawn when it was cooler.
Just as he climbed into his truck heading toward the foothills and wondering if he could crash with Yutu, his cell phone rang.
“Josh,” Helen said, croaking into the phone. On that one word alone, her voice carried a ring of desperation. She was crying.
A shot of adrenalin raced through his nervous system, carrying a sense of dread. “Helen,” he said. “What is it? What's wrong?”
“Come home,” she said, barely choking out the words.
“What's h
appened, Helen?” he asked, screaming into the phone. “It is Mindy?”
Helen was crying too hard, all she could say was “Josh…” before the line went dead.
Josh sped home as fast as possible. His truck ran hot, bordering on overheating. Worry made him sweat in the air conditioned cab. He was thankful for the headset and tried several times to call Helen and could only leave messages. In frustration, he pounded a fist on the steering wheel, yelling at other vehicles and big rigs to get out of the way.
Josh yanked on the emergency brake and parked in front of the sign that identified Mindy Moore's Mini-Farm. He jumped the picket fence instead of unlatching the gate. As he burst into the house, all was quiet. “Helen?” he asked, calling out as he looked through the rooms. “Anybody?”
Helen came running in from the fields. “It's Mindy,” she said, wringing her hands and sobbing as she collapsed into Josh's arms.
“Where is she?” he asked, his voice harsh and demanding. He helped Helen to sit and wasn't about to wait. He rushed to Mindy's bedroom and found it neat, like she always left it, though it looked as though someone had slept on top of the bedspread.
“Don't look,” Helen said after regaining some composure. “Come sit down.” She pointed and shook her hand toward the sofa beside her.
Josh knew it was bad news. Mindy was nowhere around. She must have been taken to the hospital, but Helen would have stayed with her. “Just tell me where she is,” he said, begging. “I need to be with her.”
Helen sucked back her tears. “Mindy's gone,” she said. She starting weeping again.
“Get hold of yourself, woman!” Josh said. “Tell me where she is and I'll go.”
“Gone, Josh,” she said, her voice elevated. “Gone. She passed away.”
Josh collapsed onto the sofa. He kept shaking his head and fidgeted nervously turning from one side to the other. He breathed heavily and clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to stave off the shock, not wanting to absorb the words that disbelief held at bay. He turned to Helen and grabbed her hands and began to cry. “Mindy? My Mindy's gone?”
“She's gone, Josh. She was so weak.”
After hugging and crying, Josh had to build his resolve to get through the coming days. He swiped at his eyes. “Tell me what happened.”
Helen retrieved a wad of tissues from her pocket, pulled a soggy one loose and blew her nose. “It was after you left to go to Modesto. Mindy went out to work in the yard. She hadn't been out but a few minutes when she came in saying too many people were around and she wasn't feeling well, said her heart was racing.” She paused as Josh waited for the details. She blew her nose and continued. “Said there was a strange man crossing the back yard. Who would have known a simple thing like that could unnerve her? I got her to lay down on her bed and she seemed comfortable. When I went to check on her about an hour later… she was gone!” Helen couldn't hold back the new flood of tears. Josh wrapped his arms around her and together they rocked back and forth in sorrow.
Later, on the way to the funeral home, Josh called Yutu and told him he'd be several days late in making the delivery. He'd wait till he was there in person to break the devastating news.
A memorial service was held for Mindy right there in her yard around the goldfish pond she had installed years earlier. After she was cremated, her ashes were scattered in the flower beds under her beloved rose bushes.
Documented a year earlier when Josh and Mindy realized something special in their relationship, and when Mindy knew of his commitment to live organically, she had willed the house and farm to him through a trust. Josh both gladly and sadly accepted it in memory of the only woman he had loved.
* * *
The drive to the remote area of the Sierra Foothills was nothing but a vague memory. What he thought about mostly were the special times he and Mindy shared, and there were plenty. They had become nearly inseparable. He cherished it and his heart swelled, in spite of him coming to his senses and having to realize that she was gone forever.
The dusty rutted road from the highway to Yutu's farm a mile inside the border of the reservation jogged him back to his senses. Josh swung around and backed up toward the open carport which was used as a staging area for the farm. Yutu had managed to somewhat restore the old wind beaten deserted shanty. He was trying to set an example for the neighboring Miwok families, teaching that each could rise up out of squalor and build a new purposeful life. As a result, their houses were painted. Some modern conveniences had been added. Most importantly, the Miwoks sold their produce in fruit and vegetable stands along the highways and the meager earnings supported their improved lifestyles. He convinced some of them to give up drinking alcohol.
When the Miwoks began selling to the public, passers-by would stop, Yutu thought, just to see what a real Indian looked like. Yutu was a strong young man and his emotional presence among his people carried as much weight as Josh's presence did around the Delta. Yutu got over the insult and decided to make it work for him and his people. He was one of the first to let his straight black hair grow below shoulder length. He often times wore rooster and other tail feathers on a beaded headband. In the heat of the summer, he wore nothing more than a breechcloth hanging over a pair of shorts. His even brown skin accentuated the image he wished to portray.
He wore moccasins made by his people. When the curious wanted to buy some, Yutu began selling them and other handmade Native American artifacts at the roadside stands. As popularity for the authentic items grew, and more and more tourists began passing by, Yutu and his neighbors organized a Native American Festival. Children could ride mules and ponies. Adults could buy treasures made by hand. A few costumed squaws demonstrated how to weave wool and natural fibers into functional cloaks, hats and other specialty clothing. The food, of course, was the same the Miwoks themselves ate. Yutu credited Mindy for turning him on to some incredible possibilities. He absorbed every word that Mindy taught. He claimed she was the one person who did the most for his people; no one else, no government agency, only Mindy assuring him he was capable. Always emulating Mindy and her teachings, whenever he could, he talked to people about the Miwoks and how the tribes had lived throughout the Delta and Central Valley and how they had built many of the levees and canals still seen today.
Yutu came in from the field, rushing to meet Josh in the shade of the old carport. Yutu tried to shake hands enthusiastically. Josh could only hold tight. Yutu's radiant smile said he was happy to see his friend, but when he saw the look on Josh's face, his mood went somber. His arms dropped to his sides.
Josh didn't know how to begin. He had tears in his eyes. Surely his eyes were bloodshot from having cried in the truck when no one else was around to see him mourn. Yutu knew of Mindy's condition. Who didn't? How was Josh to tell that she had succumbed? As he drove, all he could think about were memories of their times together. He wished he had planned what he needed to say to break the news softly to Yutu. He could only stand still in shock and stare into Yutu's eyes.
Yutu began nodding. His eyes got glassy but he remained stoic. “Was it peaceful?” he asked.
Josh explained as much as he knew. Finally, they unloaded the bat guano. Yutu wanted Josh to go out into the fields. Josh saw it as diversion, though Mindy, in absentia, was nearly as much a part of this farm as her own.
Josh spent the night in Yutu's cabin. Neither spoke much, just sat on the porch for a long while and studied the stars, each needing to grieve silently. Once Yutu said, “When I find a girl like Mindy, I'll get married.”
The long drive home the next day was an arduous trek back to a life and circumstance he didn't wish to live with. Again, his thoughts were only about Mindy, but he was cried out. Often he shook his head in disbelief.
One of the last cute things she had said to him was: Just stare out the window once in a while, okay? You make my heart flutter when I catch you staring at me. She was so cute when she teased.
He drove in silence, not remembering the road
behind. As he neared the Delta, something began working its way into his consciousness out of the rush of memories. He remembered that he was supposed to leave for Modesto early in the morning to escape most of the midday heat, but he hadn't left and got a late start leaving. The workers had a problem with irrigation and he stayed to help. He had been crossing the field behind the house, rushing toward his truck when he heard Mindy singing. She seemed jubilant. He didn't want to destroy her mood so he didn't stop. He knew by the song she sang that she had finally understood the meaning of him telling her about his health issues. They couldn't be married in Hawaii, but they could now marry. When she wasn't looking, he slipped away. He would leave her to happily think about marriage plans till he returned that evening.
He was already feeling numb. It got worse. His thoughts still weren't clear. Helen said Mindy told her a strange man had crossed the back yard. So Mindy had seen him but didn't recognize him as he ducked behind a tree. Mindy had seen someone but didn't know it was him.
Again, her words played a mournful tune from memory: You make my heart flutter when I catch you staring at me. The memory of her playful voice tore at his emotions.
Josh gasped. He choked. He slammed on his brakes and skidded to the shoulder of the levee road. Mindy saw someone who hid and that unnerved her; unnerved her into having heart failure. It was him who ducked behind a tree, him not wanting to interrupt her moment of happiness.
He slowly pulled back onto the road feeling truly numb. After a long thoughtful and sorrowful drive, he parked in front of the sign, Mindy Moore's Mini-Farm. The site of it made tears gush. He choked again. He knew what he had to do and took a sharp, deep breath and held it while he pulled himself together. He needed to have a long talk with Helen. If he was the person responsible for Mindy's heart failure, he needed to own it.